


a trail of fire on my lips (I can't put it out)

by leocantus



Category: Almost Human
Genre: M/M, Robot on Human Action, Robot/Human Relationships, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leocantus/pseuds/leocantus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone asks, John is going to blame it all on the robot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a trail of fire on my lips (I can't put it out)

"Like this?"

John watched as Dorian looked up from where his hand was wrapped around John's cock, the strokes faster now, and it was the unwavering focus in his gaze - like Dorian was memorising every detail of this, as though the information was important, to be locked away behind his blue, blue eyes - as much as the sharp twist of pleasure low in his gut that had him cursing and thrusting into his grip.

Steady, he told himself. Steady. But he was already flushed, skin slick with sweat and breathing fast and laboured. He'd liked to have thought that it was because it had been so long since he'd done this, but deep down inside he knew it was just Dorian. Dorian, who was unaffected right up until he wasn't, the robot with the too human heart.

"I'd have thought you'd already know the answer to that. You--" John's breath caught in his chest, and he felt his toes curl and his fingers bite into not-quite flesh as Dorian slid his thumb across the head, massaging it a little. "You seem to know everything else about me."

"Well," Dorian had his smug half smile on, jacket removed but otherwise fully clothed, and ran his other hand curiously across the muscles of John's stomach and over a jutting hipbone, knelt between John's spread thighs, "Now I know you like that." 

John arched up into that trailing hand, skin strangely hungry for more, and tried to urge Dorian closer. (It was like trying to shift a brick wall; John shouldn't have found that so hot) "What else do you know?" The rough material of Dorian's jeans was rubbing against the insides of his thighs with every minute movement of his body and John shivered, biting his lip against a moan.

"Not enough," Dorian said, suddenly serious, and his grip tightened as though in response. John inhaled sharply, caught on the idea that he was the only thing Dorian would allow to affect him, and thrust upwards instinctively. "Not nearly enough." Precome was welling up and spilling over onto Dorian's fist, dripping onto his stomach, and there was no way he could have stopped the groan that broke free as Dorian dipped his fingers into it, smeared it into his skin before chasing it with his mouth.

Dorian's mouth was hot, hotter, tongue searing a brand into his flesh, and the hazy sort of pleasure suffusing through his limbs tripped over into a kind of desperation. John slid his hands over Dorian's hair and cupped the back of his neck, pushing futilely up against the hand effortlessly holding him down (and that was unreasonably hot too), enraptured by the mouth moving clumsily over his stomach as though the owner had never thought about using it in any capacity other than to speak with. 

Nothing could stop John from releasing a hoarse cry as Dorian's teeth accidentally grazed his hips, still working his cock with his hand, nor stop the sharp (pleading) way he said "Dorian," when he pulled his mouth back slightly. A blistering curl of heat rolled through him when he caught sight of his come clinging to Dorian's lips, absent mindedly wiped away before Dorian lowered his mouth and swiped his tongue over the head of his erection.

John swore, holding back his orgasm by his fingertips as his head slammed back into the mattress, and his thighs tensed before falling open. Dorian had full lips, soft looking enough that it tripped John up every time he turned to look at him, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined this but--

Dorian's mouth slipped down another torturous inch, the accidental graze of teeth against the head making John jerk, electrified, and John slid his thumbs along Dorian's jaw as he finally - _finally_ \- started to move, slowly, carefully, taking the time to figure out what to do with his tongue.

It was sloppy, awkward, and clumsy, and John was going to come in about five seconds. 

He managed get out a warning, and a cry was wrenched from him as Dorian slid his mouth off, but it was fine, it was more than fine, because Dorian wrapped a hand around him again and jacked him off, hard and fast, his eyes intense as he stared down at John, something wild flickering behind them, and that was it, he was done. John groaned from somewhere deep in his chest, feeling like his orgasm was being pulled from him, and came all over himself, stripes of it painting Dorian's hand.

He relaxed back into the mattress, panting, and said, "Come here," beckoning Dorian closer with one hand, feeling the gaze from him almost like a physical caress. 

"Come here," he said again, quieter, once Dorian was close enough for him to cup the back of his neck again and tip his mouth up into his and all John could think was that he was right, that Dorian's lips were soft, a slight but definite give to the flesh with that not-quite-right texture. Dorian jerked away slightly as their lips touched, surprised, but soon enough he was pressing into John, mimicking precisely every breath, every scrape of teeth, every flick of the tongue, every brush of lips. It was heady. 

Dorian pulled back eventually, his typical smirk softened into a smile, and John knew that if he didn't do something now they were going to have a Moment.

"You better not be getting come in my hair."

Dorian gave him a flat look. "You didn't seem to mind me leaving come anywhere three minutes ago."

John shoved at his shoulder, to no avail (which was still really hot but also really frustrating right now)."Yeah, well, that was three minutes ago."

"I would have thought coming for the first time in nine months--"

John sat up, outraged. "Now hang on a minute, who said anything about nine months?"

"--would have mellowed you out. Clearly I was mistaken."

"Hey, I'm plenty mellow, thank you ver--"

Dorian pushed him back down, one-handed, crooked smirk in place. "Maybe we just need to keep doing this until you get it right."

John raised both his eyebrows, amused. "Oh really," he said, tugging at him, pulling him down into another kiss. "Dumb robot. You could have just asked."


End file.
